you and I we were divided by a piece of glass, yours was called a "tablet" mine was the "smartphone" ours was a tale of could-haves
Read poetry in silence. Read it out loud. Listen to people talk about poetry. Listen to people read it out loud. Spoken. Slam. From the written text to the perfect instrument: your voice. My remaining months as a graduate student has been revolving close to these poetic affairs. I guess it shouldn't surprise me to … Continue reading On that fateful day in the office
Ang hirap lang sakyan na cactus lang ang makaka-game-over sa isang thick-skinned dinosaur.
Growing lime next to a dried canal, gangster's mark in private walls -- graffiti art they call it pretty palette in office building fronts (the back always forgotten) Tell me: was there something I missed? I looked at the still city the quiet -- reigning without comfort or bearing thoughts of you saunter close: Oh, … Continue reading How